Five minutes later, I was racing back down the service elevator. Glancing at my phone, it seemed the crowd had already dispersed. If the taxi I’d ordered was still waiting outside, I might just manage to slip Nicholas out of the...
The elevator doors opened to a deserted lobby.
Oh no. No, no, no!
A cheerful building attendant caught my eye, and I hurried over, the clatter of my high heels echoing on the marble tile.
“Excuse me—have you seen Nicholas Huntington? He was supposed to wait for me here.”
The man nodded calmly.
“He did, miss. He waited for about a minute, then he left.”
Of course he did.
“Okay,” I panted, looking around frantically, “do you know where he went? Does he have a favorite bar, or maybe that downtown gym with the boxing ring—”
“I don’t need to guess,” the man
